


Talk to Me

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Fluff, hurt/comfort type of thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:03:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Terezi interrupts Dave's extremely important (read: completely useless) business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk to Me

Rapping is pretty much how you’ve been spending the past few months on this meteor. There’s not a lot to take pictures of, and not a lot of weird dead things to preserve and collect either. Rebuilding your collection here probably isn’t the most tactful thing to do anyway.

That leaves you with your comics and your raps. Well, you could also be productive and do research things with Rose, but she doesn’t need your help. Your short attention span just gets on her nerves anyway. Speaking of, you can’t concentrate long enough to produce anything up to your standards. (In the case of SBAHJ, that’s saying something.)

It’s just that you’re running out of material. No, you’ve been out of material for ages.

_I don’t have anything to work with on this goddamn space rock. But I guess it’s better than having my face shoved in puppet cock .Nah, that’s not saying much of anything, but I don’t got anything to say anyway, because there ain’t nothing to say about nothing, and there’s nothing to do about nothing but try to turn it into inspiration, or maybe preparation, for something larger than life. People flock to the scene once the beat is revived, and it’s new and improved, kid-tested mother-approved, but some think there’s something different, but then again Strider’s got a history of not giving a shit about slant rhymes, nickels and dimes, Lemon-lime, or -_

You’re interrupted by someone shouting “TACKLEPOUNCE!” As you start to turn around, a body crashes into yours and knocks you over. The insane giggling tells you that it’s Terezi on top of you, squeezing you almost so hard that you can’t breathe.

“And just what the everloving fuck are you doing?” you ask, trying to sound as annoyed as possible. Your arms instinctively wrapping around her probably negate the effect, not that she would care anyway.

Her giggling finally dies down enough to say something. “I already told you, jeez! You should listen up.”

“Okay, yeah, what I mean to ask is why the everloving fuck are you doing this?”

“’Cause.” She sniffs at your face, trying to get a better look you guess. “There hasn’t been enough tacklepouncing going on lately.”

Immediately you have a bad feeling about this. Over the months, you’ve occasionally noticed Terezi taking on odd habits. She posted a few fairy and horse penis posters on her walls. A few times you’ve caught her making fish puns. Now she’s tacklepouncing.

You don’t remember her making fish puns before, and you know for a fact that fairies and horse dongs aren’t really her thing. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out she needs to talk about something. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what that is either.

“So who was in charge of tacklepouncing before?” You’re not sure if that’s the best way to go about it, but it’s probably better than ‘You need therapy because all your friends are dead.’

She sighs and buries her face in your neck. When she speaks again her voice is softer. “Nepeta. She was always really sweet.”

You start to stroke her hair, but you hesitate before you respond. “Tell me about her,” you eventually say, keeping your voice soft.

It takes her a moment, but she does. “She was the one that really liked cats. I don’t know if you ever talked to her, but if you did she was the one that made cat puns. Her lusus was a cat too. She even roleplayed as a cat. I used to roleplay with her too, before our Sgrub session.”

“Let me guess, you roleplayed as a dragon?”

“Yeah. That was pretty much how we communicated all the time, actually. She loved it.”

You could feel Terezi smiling into your neck, and you started to smile too. You started trying to pull your cape out from under you to wrap it around her, like some really awkwardly small blanket. She totally ignored this and continued talking.

“She was Equius’ moirail. It was a better relationship than everyone thought it would be. She was sweet and she helped calm him down, and he would try to protect her. And he was really strong, so nobody wanted to mess with him anyway. But as long as they were together, he never tried to hurt anyone unless they were dangerous.”

She fell silent again, and you tried to remember if you talked to a guy named Equius. You vaguely remember one who mentioned clubbing things with broken bows. But before you could ask, Terezi spoke again.

“I miss all those assholes.”

You felt her shaking slightly, as if she was about to cry, so you gave up on the awkward cape blanket thing and held her tightly.

“Hey, you’ll see them again someday.” You start stroking her hair again. “They’ll be there in the afterlife. Maybe you’ll see them in a dream bubble soon. In the meantime you still have the good memories of them.”

Another pause. “And me. You’ve got me.”

She lets out a shaky laugh and starts to wipe her eyes on your shirt. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

She laughs again, and you think you’ve done your job. She’ll be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> guess who can't rap  
> hint: it's me


End file.
